


pinprick

by orphan_account



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Archaic Language, Atmospheric, Battlefield, Death, Gore, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Vampire Hubert von Vestra, War Setting, heavy imagery, turning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-21 05:02:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21069293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: WARNING: Contains references to death and gore related to war.





	pinprick

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: Contains references to death and gore related to war.

Later, Hubert realised the folktales might have stopped him; the myths, the prophecies foretelling doom, the storytellers spreading propaganda through firelight, besmirching the Vampyre.

Ferdinand would have heard them, of course, avid listener that he was; he’d never outgrown his need for whimsical fantasies, dark or otherwise. 

Strangely, none of this had deterred Hubert from his desire. No amount of negotiating alleviated what Ferdinand did to him. His bloodlust, usually acted on with an absent-minded, animalistic efficiency, grew into an untethered limb crawling towards Ferdinand, uprooting intestines from dying bodies on decaying battlegrounds to reach him, his ultimate end.

He hadn’t known how to handle this craving, this maddening need. Lady Edelgard, always at the forefront of his mind, operating his every movement, drifted in and out of his mind with an uncharacteristic haziness he found violently debilitating. He couldn’t function with Ferdinand in such close quarters, what with the three of them forever organising their next strategies to implement into their battles, and would inevitably excuse himself, sucking through his own tainted knuckles, inhaling the scent of his fingers, fighting off fumes of the bloodied dead.

_ Oh, Ferdie._

_ Long, lustrous locks, unraveling like running water, that long, pearled neck, tenderly bruised with ponderous bites. Hubert fucking him into the ground whilst cadavers rose from their graves, the Devil fiddling an ominous trill, hovering over their heads, ghosts waltzing around them in frenzied circles. In those early months, he could not imagine the two of them in any conceivable arrangement apart from death. Hubert helped Ferdinand through the worst of it, held his long hair back as Ferdinand vomited on the spoiled corpses of a mother and an unrecognisable bundle of innards in her arms. _

_ Even then (and he can’t muster enough self-reflection to hate himself for this), he wanted Ferdinand’s veins for himself. He would’ve taken him right then, knelt in the cloying viscera littering the earth and drained Ferdinand down to the last pinprick of his blood, him lying spent against Hubert’s chest, Hubert laying his mouth to rest on Ferdinand’s fully reddened lips… _

Lurid visions of sex haunted him all the way up until it happened.

Evening fell over the battlefield close to the end of their long, long war. Ferdinand, keen to forget the bloodshed of the day, said, “I would not refuse your company.”

Thus implying that Hubert had arranged this encounter; that he had begged Ferdinand through cloaked embraces and his dark, devouring stare alone, to acquiesce. And Ferdinand did, emphatically so, and guided them up a forbidding hillside, frosted with chilled, swirling winds. 

Taking Hubert’s head in his hands, guiding his forehead against his own, Ferdinand said, “What would you have me do that I might aid you through this night?”

Dark, his stare hollowed into twinkling pinpricks of night, Hubert’s mouth opened, a bewitching hint of fang glittering between his lips.

Closing his eyes, Ferdinand’s grip tightened on Hubert’s shoulders, his fingers edging down Hubert’s back, shaking. Even in the velvet darkness of midnight, in his sheer tunic, he glowed, his long canvas of brilliant hair flyblown, running down his back in rushing rivulets.

“Do not think on this,” Ferdinand said, his eyes alight now, dazzling. “Turn me, that I might watch the end of all the world’s wars at your side.”

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project (including the LLF Comment Builder), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates responses, including:  
Short comments  
Long comments  
Questions  
“<3” as extra kudos  
Reader-reader interaction  
This author replies to comments.


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